Isle of Sin: A Standalone Dark Romance

Checks complete on south side of the island.

Clive’s report buzzed along my wrist. I sent him back a thumbs-up and continued my walk along the beach, enjoying the night air. I’d taken the north side of the island for tonight’s security checks, mostly in an effort to avoid my sister and her husband. The last thing I wanted was to see them playing near their bungalow on the southern part of the isle.

With Graham safely tucked in with the nanny I’d hired for them, they were free to roam at will.

Although, I suspect Darby wouldn’t go too far.

She was just like our own mother—protective and loving and incapable of staying away for too long.

Which made my life here in Fiji difficult for our mom to accept because she couldn’t just hop over to say hello.

But I sent a jet for her whenever she wanted to visit.

Then I met her on the main islands rather than on the isle. Not because I was ashamed of my life here—she knew everything about the Sinner lifestyle and the clubs the family owned—but because I preferred to focus on her and not my work.

Like many of my siblings, club ownership was my life. I lived and breathed this job every day, which made it hard to take a break.

However, family always came first for me.

Especially my mother.

Sighing, I continued my trek toward the play area on this side of the island. I tended to make my presence known, as it improved customer satisfaction.

It also reinforced how seriously I took my rules.

Something I suspected one of my newest guests would need to be reminded of tomorrow at breakfast.

I’d spent most of the day thinking about Nathan Spencer and Adalyn Rose, my instincts flickering long after they’d departed for their bungalow.

All of my staff filed reports after spending time with guests.

Oscar’s statement on their drive had been minimal, as the couple hadn’t really spoken much.

Meanwhile, Cassandra’s comments had been plentiful, her observations confirming the Master and slave preferences of the couple. However, she also included a note of concern regarding Adalyn Rose and whatever punishment she’d received.

It sounded painful, and her reactions weren’t ones of enjoyment.

That wasn’t necessarily uncommon. But something about it must have unsettled Cassandra enough for her to include it in her report.

Sharon, the housekeeper assigned to Mr. Spencer’s villa, submitted similar notes to Cassandra.

And both staff members had been dismissed early.

That was the other reason I’d opted for a stroll along this side of the island tonight. Breakfast in the morning felt too far away. I wanted to see Mr. Spencer in action, review his tendencies, and evaluate him for myself.

Assuming he took Adalyn to the play area, of course.

His bungalow out on the water appeared dark, suggesting he might have done just that.

Or perhaps decided on an early night after their trip.

I considered wandering down the dock, just to listen outside, but that seemed too intrusive. Especially as I didn’t have much proof beyond my instincts and a few notes.

Observing a scene would…

What is that? I wondered, my gaze narrowing as my original train of thought disappeared into the night. Is that…?

It looks like a woman.

Floating…

My eyes widened.

Dark hair. Pale skin. Naked.

Late-night skinny-dipping wasn’t abnormal on this island.

But nothing about this seemed sexual.

“Fuck.” Sand sprayed around me as I took off at a dead sprint toward the water, my pulse racing as her lifeless body rolled in the waves.

It bobbed.

Went under for a second.

And popped back up again.

This time facedown.

No movement.

No signs of swimming or trying to reach the shore.

“Fuck!”

I ran faster, my dress shoes less than ideal for this terrain. But I didn’t care. I sprinted right into the water and started swimming, the distance between me and the girl seeming to expand with each passing second.

My arms moved forcefully through the ocean, taking command of the waves and propelling me forward.

Hours seemed to pass, my heart thudding loudly in my ears as I pushed my body forward.

Another wave rolled the woman to her back, her lips parting on a gasp as I arrived right beside her.

She didn’t open her eyes, just sucked in the air as though greedy for it.

Adalyn Rose.

She must have gone for a swim.

But why?

And where is Nathan Spencer?

She was clearly conscious. Yet seemed to be… I wasn’t sure. Letting the waves try to drown her?

She almost appeared to be asleep.

Yet she was crying.

No. Not crying. Sobbing.

My feet kicked beneath me, my shoes finding the ground. I had probably six inches of height on her. But she could easily stand here.

So why is she rolling around helplessly?

What the hell is she…?

Is that…?

My lips parted. Blood.

The liquid painted her torso in muddy ink beneath the moonlight.

It seemed to be swarming around her.

Oozing all over her.

“Where is the wound?” I asked, trying to figure out where to touch her. “What happened? Where are you hurt?”

Big ebony eyes locked on mine, true fear etching itself into her angelic features as her lips parted on a scream.

A scream that was soundless.

A scream that came from a throat that could no longer form sound.

I knew that reaction well, had enjoyed bringing women to that state on countless occasions.

But something told me Adalyn’s experience had varied significantly from my own.

Because she appeared to be in true agony, her terror palpable.

“Shh,” I hushed, lifting my hands out of the water in a placative mood. “I’m not—”

Another wave took her for a spin.

“Shit.”

I reached for her this time, pulling her to the surface. It was the absolute worst thing to do, especially if she had a neck or head injury, but she didn’t appear capable of swimming and I wasn’t going to let her dro—

Her fist slammed into my jaw, her body suddenly in full-on fight mode as she tried to force me to release her.

I did.

And she immediately went under the water, almost as though her legs weren’t working.

“God damn it!”

I pulled her up again, this time wrapping my arms around her upper body to keep her from hitting me again.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said against her ear, my voice taking on a low, commanding note. “Calm down. I just want to help.”

She trembled violently against me, almost as though she were shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

My arms slipped, the blood coating her skin mingling with the salt water and creating a deadly lubricant.

I needed to get her out of the ocean for evaluation.

“We’re going ashore,” I told her, starting backward. “I’m not going to hurt you.” It seemed like the right phrase to repeat with how badly she shook in response to my words. “You’re going to be all right.”

The same could not be said about Nathan Spencer.

Because he’d obviously done something to her.

I just had no idea what.

My wrist buzzed as I pulled her from the waves onto the shore, one of my security personnel checking in. I couldn’t read it or respond, too focused on the vibrating female in my arms.

She was openly sobbing again, words spilling from her mouth that didn’t make sense because she didn’t have a voice. They were broken noises that only seemed to make her shake harder.

“Adalyn. It’s okay. I’m not taking you back to him.” My instincts told me that was the right thing to say.

And the way she froze against me suggested I’d been right, too.

Or maybe it was because I’d spoken her name.

I wasn’t sure, but at least she wasn’t fighting me anymore.

“I need to know where you’re hurt.” I tried for a more soothing tone this time, hoping it would help keep her calm.

She didn’t react.

She barely even breathed.

She seemed to be in some sort of trance. Shock, perhaps.

I carefully released her, uncertain of whether or not she would attempt to hit me again. But she remained utterly frozen, resembling a marble statue beneath the moonlight.

A marble statue with smatters of bloody water all over her, I corrected, my gaze trailing over her torso in an attempt to find the source of the blood.

My wrist buzzed again.

Bryant checking in.

I replied to him this time with an SOS. It wouldn’t take long for him to dispatch security to my area, my phone being a beacon for my location.

Fortunately, it was waterproof—something I’d paid a lot for, but seemed like a necessity with living on an island.

Tonight had proven that investment worthwhile.

“Can you point to where it hurts?” I asked Adalyn, still not seeing any wounds on her. Just a lot of bloody water.

Her eyes met mine, her dark irises resembling black pools of haunted memories.

Someone had hurt this girl.

Badly.

I opened my mouth, ready to tell her that I wanted to help.

When her fist connected with my jaw again.

Her feet started moving across the sand in a haphazard run that would have been comical if she hadn’t just punched me in the face. Again.

I cursed, darting after her, and catching her easily by the hips.

Her knees buckled in the next instant, her body going completely limp beneath my hands.

I shifted quickly, my arm catching her back as the opposite went to her knees, to lift her into the air.

Her head hung backward, her eyes rolling with emotion.

“Jesus,” I breathed, blinking down at her now unconscious form. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Her chest rose in an unsteady inhale, her exhale just as shaky.

I carefully lowered her to the sand, laying her down in a manner that would make CPR easier, just in case. I pulled my phone from my pocket, dialing Bryant.

“What’s going on?” he asked before the first ring even ended.

“Adalyn Rose is unconscious in the sand. I need Dr. Zansky. Now.”

“I’ll alert him,” Bryant replied.

“Send security over to Mr. Spencer’s hut and detain him for questioning as well.” I tolerated a lot. But this? This I did not tolerate.

“On it,” Bryant promised. “I’m sending London and Mason your way.”

“Good.”

“I’m right behind them.”

I nodded. Not that he could see. “Thanks, Bryant.” I hung up before he could reply, my hands going to Adalyn’s neck and the signs of bruising against her delicate skin. There were cut marks all over her chest as well, but nothing that could have caused the amount of blood in the water.

Her stomach and thighs displayed similar signs of knife play.

None of it looked sensual, more like torture—paper cuts meant to sting.

Her nipples were swollen as well, suggesting she’d been put in clamps for too long. I suspected her clit would be the same.

My jaw clenched.

The bruises and superficial scars, all of which would heal, pointed at what I already knew—Nathan Spencer had severely damaged this woman.

To the point where she’d gone for a midnight swim and just let the waves take her.

“Were you trying to die?” I asked her softly, running my fingers through her tangled dark strands. My heart broke for her; this beautiful creature didn’t deserve that sort of pain. No one did. “I don’t know what he did to you, Adalyn. But I promise he’ll never touch you again.”

Because I would be removing him from my island.

Just as soon as he told me what the fuck he’d done to this darling girl.

My security arrived a handful of seconds later.

Followed by Dr. Zansky ten minutes after that.

Adalyn hadn’t woken up at all, but her pulse was steady and she appeared to be breathing better now.

However, one look at Dr. Zansky’s expression told me that didn’t mean much. He ordered a stretcher to be brought for her. “I’ll take her to the medical station.”

I shook my head. “No. Take her to my villa. You can treat her in one of my guest rooms.”

He blinked at me. “I need my equipment—”

“Bryant will make sure you have everything you need.” I glanced at my security officer as he arrived. “Right?”

“Yes,” he agreed without missing a beat. “Tell me what to bring over, and we’ll get it done.”

Dr. Zansky appeared ready to argue.

A raised eyebrow from me had him shaking his head and keeping his comments to himself.

Was it the right move on my part? Maybe not. But I’d just promised the girl I would keep Nathan away from her, and I’d meant it. She would be under my personal watch until this situation resolved itself.

Dr. Zansky started listing what he needed for Bryant as two of the other men carefully pulled Adalyn onto the stretcher.

Bryant cut him off mid-list with a “Hold on.” He pressed his finger to his ear. “Say that again.” His hazel eyes flew to mine as whoever reported to him spoke through his earpiece. He blinked, his lips parting. “You’re sure?”

I frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Bryant glanced down at Adalyn with a scrutinizing look before returning his startled gaze to me. “We need to go to the bungalow.” He blinked and focused on his men, spouting orders about supplies and helping Dr. Zansky. “I want a guard on the girl, too,” he finished, his demand deepening my frown.

But I waited until he was done issuing demands before I asked any questions. I’d hired him and Clive to lead my security team for a reason. I trusted them entirely.

However, the minute Bryant and I started walking toward the bungalow, I looked at him and demanded, “What the fuck is going on?”

He met my gaze without flinching. “Nathan Spencer is dead.”